Marie's Nightmares
by Lucinda
Summary: What effects might Marie's powers have on her dreams?
1. prolog

author: Lucinda  
rating: pg -13 eventually, this part G  
Main Characters: Marie.   
no pairing  
disclaimer: not mine. Nobody from Marvel is mine.  
distribution: please ask first.  
  
  
  
Marie stood in the hallway, talking to Bobby about the history report that Ms. Munroe had assigned them. She wanted twenty pages on the Roman empire, and one specific way that it had influenced modern society. The assignment had been given two weeks ago, and was due at the end of this week, and had been the source of a great many grumblings from the students.  
  
"I don't know why she gave us that assignment. I mean, twenty pages? Doesn't she realize how much work the other teachers have given us? When are we supposed to be able to sleep with all this work?" Bobby was exaggerating things a bit, trying to make Marie smile.  
  
She stifled a giggle. "Ah don't know, but you sure seem to have found some play time somewhere. Maybe we aren't supposed to sleep. Think they're trying to help us find that mutants really can get by on one or two hours?"  
  
Bobby smiled, and made an exaggeratedly surprised expression. "You know, I think you may be on to something there. Anyhow, good night Marie. Pleasant dreams."  
  
She watched him walk down the hall with a small smile before entering her room, closing the door and leaning against it, her smile gone, fear in her eyes. "ah hope I don't dream tonight. Maybe them pills Dr. Grey gave me will work... ah'm afraid to dream anymore."  
  
She changed into her nightgown, a long flowing lavender gown with full sleeves, and eyed her bed as if she feared it would become some awful beast and attack her. In an effort to delay sleep, she worked on math homework, writing figures until her head swam and her eyes itched. Conceding defeat, she slowly trudged to the bed, sliding her body under the thick grey and blue comforter.  
  
"Now I lay me down to sleep, ah pray the Lord my soul to keep. Watch over me in my sleep, please don't let me dream. Amen." The unorthodox prayer was whispered into the air, a desperate plea into the darkness.  
  
Eventually, her shifting and twisting slowed, then faded, and the room was quiet except for the sound of her slow, even breathing.  
  
end prolog. 


	2. Logan

author: Lucinda  
rating: pg-13   
Main Characters: Marie. Sort of Logan   
disclaimer: not mine. Nobody from Marvel is mine.  
distribution: please ask first.  
  
  
  
The wind howled as it gusted, like the screams of tormented souls. It carried bits of snow that dug into his bare skin like tiny knives, biting at him, trying to suck the warmth from him. His bones were heavy and cold, as if he had been wrapped around rods of ice. He shivered, and bent down to look at the snow, trying to read the tracks before the wind erased them.  
  
NO! Ah don't want to see this again! Ah want to wake up now...  
  
Kneeling down in the snow, he looked at the tracks. The tracks were deep, and told him that it had been moving quickly. He continued in that direction, following the tracks. Brief gaps in the white wind showed scraggly pine trees, and ice covered rocks, a barren and unwelcoming landscape. He had to find the creature.  
  
Moving on, the snow became spotted with red, and the scent of blood and fear filled the cold air, hitting him like a hammer. Fallen in the snow, entrails spilling out was a woman, her dark hair matted with blood and snow, her dark eyes wide open, staring upwards in fear and surprise. The tracks surrounded the body, telling of her brave, if futile struggles against her killer. Long slashes over her body had shattered her serenity, and almost erased her beauty. He could almost remember her name...  
  
He saw the bloody footprints of her killer, moving away from the body as if her death had held no meaning, no significance. If her death held no importance, why should anyone else's? He had to find the beast, had to stop it.  
  
There was a break in the snow, and he found himself crawling through barbed wire, his rifle firmly in hand, lifted high to keep the mud from fouling it. He didn't understand how he had come to this place through the cold winds, but the sky was leaden grey with rain clouds, and the earth was wholly the dull slickness of mud, men in uniforms with guns hiding in trenches, oblivious to his passing. The beast had passed through here, leaving a small group of soldiers shredded, their bodies slumped in a horrible parody of sleep. The mud slowly sucked at them, pulling them into a shallow grave, unknown, unmourned.  
  
Those uniforms... didn't ah see those in one of those war movies my Daddy used to watch? Are those from World War one?  
  
He continued back into the snow, his mud smeared clothing freezing to his body, dragging at his movements. Continuing, he thought he caught the sound of something howling, the pitch all wrong to be a timber wolf. He tried to move faster, stumbling into a clearing free of wind.   
  
The semi circle of pines had almost concealed the bodies, a red haired woman and a taller brown haired man, the bodies savaged as if by some crazed beast. The bodies were still warm, still oozing blood from horrible injuries. Ribs gleamed pale amidst blood, and the man's head had bee twisted to an unnatural angle. He knew these people, had stayed with them, once upon another life. "Heather..."  
  
She almost looks... like she used to resemble Jean.  
  
He moved faster, certain that he had to be close to the beast now. If he could catch it, could end this rampage of death and destruction... There was a snow bank, and the tracks lead over it, long and narrow in the snow, almost like the prints of a man.  
  
There was the beast, it's dark shaggy mane spilling over it's back as it crouched in the snow. Long limbs almost like arms were held out over something red and raw looking, something that made pitiful little noises on the snow. It sensed his presence, and spun around, growling.  
  
He looked at it's face, and recognized the lines of his own jaw, the hue of his eyes. The wild mane around the face was his own hair, grown long and wild....  
  
He was the beast. Snarling, it lunged for him, sharp teeth bared and still red from the last victim of its... his rampage of destruction...  
  
Marie sat up in her bed, gasping for breath, half certain that she could feel the cold wind, smell blood and fear and foul breath. Her heart was hammering in her chest, a frantic rush of terror and self loathing filled her. Her hand had flown to her throat, as if afraid of sharp teeth ripping into her flesh.  
  
"oh God, not again... Ah hate his dreams."  
  
She closed her eyes a moment, swallowing back the sour taste of bile. She went tot he small sink, washing the taste of fear away with cold water before returning to the bed. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the small brown bottle by her bed, fumbling it open and allowing a small dark pill to fall into her hand. She swallowed it, hoping that it would keep her from dreaming any more this night.  
  
end Logan 


	3. Cody

author: Lucinda  
rating: pg   
Main Characters: Marie. Sort of Cody  
disclaimer: not mine. Nobody from Marvel is mine.  
distribution: please ask first.  
  
  
Marie had finished another day of school. She'd turned in the history paper for Miss Munroe's class, and taken a test in English class. She'd done her best to keep busy, and to pretend that she wasn't having The Dreams. It was bad enough that of all the students here at Xavier's, she was the only one who could kill someone with a touch. Well, technically, she didn't know what would happen if she held on too long, but if a brief kiss had left Cody unconscious, what if she touched someone longer? Would they die, or just sleep forever? Which would be worse?  
  
She shivered, hating the direction that her thoughts had taken. But, everyone knew what had happened when she'd touched Logan after his nightmare... Everyone else had to wonder what would happen if she touched someone else. Would they die? Would the sleep forever, hooked to machines to keep their body alive? While nobody had actually asked her to leave, or for Xavier to ask her to leave, well, not that she knew of anyhow, the other students were afraid of her. She could take their powers with a touch... leave them fallen like a broken doll with just one little finger.  
  
It terrified her, and a lot of other people as well. Normal people were afraid of mutants, but the other mutants were afraid of her. Some days she felt like some sort of monster. And she kept wondering what had happened to Cody after she'd run away. She could still remember him there in the corner, his eyes open, staring blindly at her, unmoving, unspeaking, his memories and thoughts bouncing in her head, colliding with her own...  
  
Marie tried to clear her mind, tried to think of nothing as she got herself ready for bed. She didn't want to think, didn't want to ponder how people viewed her mutation, didn't want to wonder what had happened to Cody.  
  
It wasn't long until Marie slept, her body still under the thick comforter, one hand clenched into a fist, the other shoved under her pillow, as if even in her sleep, she feared to touch someone.   
  
The dream started pleasantly enough, if a bit unsettling. The warm Mississippi sun shone down, warming his but I'm not a him skin. The air was filled with the scent of magnolia's and the drone of mosquitoes, and he was walking through tall grass, feeling it swish against his calves, left bare by his shorts. His meanderings took him to a small hill, with a large oak tree on the top, and sitting under the tree, in a pair of cut off shorts and a pale pink crop top was a vision of young beauty. Marie was there, smiling at him, her eyes twinkling with dreams and plans and anticipation for tomorrow. Now, this is just too strange...  
  
"Hey there. Been waiting long?" He sat down beside her, the grass cool in the shade, and settled his hand beside hers, just touching the edge of her hand, their elbows brushing each other.  
  
She smiled at him, one lock of her hair falling in front of her eyes. "Not too long. Some things are worth a bit of a wait."  
  
Leaning over just a bit, he kissed her, and he could feel her melting against his body, her kiss as sweet as honey... he wanted more. Now, this is just too far! That.. it never happened! I don't want to dream about being someone else kissing... me!  
  
The kiss broke, and he looked into her eyes, sparkling bright, and she glanced down, her cheeks turning a most becoming pink. "Cody... I..."  
  
But she never got to finish her words, because suddenly the football team, the Wildcats, was there, and they were hauling him away from Marie, demanding to know what he'd been thinking, didn't he realize that they had a game today, this afternoon, right now? As they hauled him away, the coach was lecturing about how he shouldn't let himself be distracted by a pair of wide eyes and long legs, there would always be pretty girls willing to be the girl of the star Quarterback.  
  
Then, he was in his uniform, the helmet dropped over his head, narrowing his vision, muffling the sounds of the world. He crouched on the football team, facing the opposing team, who were dressed in green and black uniforms. They were all huge, bristling with an impossible amount of muscles, far more than a professional football team would have, let alone a rival high school team. His mind was blank, he had no idea what plays they would use, how they could manage to get past these guys to score.  
  
And the game commenced, in a blur of movement, the bleachers longer and fuller than they'd ever been in reality, the dull roar of the spectators filling his ears, like being underwater. He watched as his team struggled on, and to his horror, his muscles had turned to jelly, and his knees kept wobbling. Every pass he threw was short and off target, every time he tried to run, he moved slightly faster than a turtle. He felt the jarring impact of every tackle, wondering how he had not shattered beneath the force and weight of the other team's players.  
  
Finally, the game ended, and he had managed to botch and fumble every play of the game. They'd lost, and it had been because of him. The other team was surrounded by cheering people, and his team filed past, each person somehow knocking into him, stepping on his foot, bumping his arm, often with cutting words, telling him how he'd failed them, failed the school, the town... how their loss was all his fault.  
  
The crowd was flocking around the other team, laughing and cheering and offering all sorts of congratulations. He stood there on the field, bruised and battered, abandoned and jeered at by his team, his fans forgetting him, wondering how everything had gone so badly. Looking over, he saw one last thing, something that made him ache inside with pain and jealousy and anger.  
  
The other quarterback, the one that had lead the team of giants to victory, had taken off his helmet, smiling at the crowd. With a sudden motion, he'd picked up a dark haired girl in a pale shirt, dainty against his size, and swung her around triumphantly. After the joyful circling, he kissed her, and it was clear that the girl was kissing him back, delighted in his success. It wasn't until they swept past that he got a good look at the face of the girl. It was Marie.  
  
She sat up in the bed, tears streaming down her face, feeling as if her insides had been tied up in a tangled knot. She could remember the feeling of the football helmet, the feeling of the other players crushing her with their tackles... But it wasn't her. It wasn't even her dream, it was Cody's.  
  
Had she really mattered to him? Had she been no more than a 'pair of pretty eyes and legs' or had he seen her as a person, as Marie?  
  
She was too afraid to try to find out. Sniffling from the tears, she dried her face, and returned to her bed, hoping for dreamless sleep.  
  
end Cody. 


	4. Magneto

author: Lucinda  
rating: pg-13 dark, angsty.  
Main Characters: Marie. Sort of Magneto  
disclaimer: not mine. Nobody from Marvel is mine.  
distribution: please ask first.  
  
  
Marie had been planning to join girl's movie night along with Kitty, Jubilee and a couple of the other girls that she didn't know very well, someone named Dani and someone named Viv. They'd planned to have popcorn and watch Brad Pitt movies. It was supposed to be fun and relaxing, something to take their minds off of boyfriends and tough classes and the fact that the world hated them for being mutants. Jubilee had gotten the movies from Blockbuster, Interview With a Vampire, Meet Joe Black, and she'd also got something called Twelve Monkeys, which Marie had never heard of before.  
  
By the time they'd finished it, Marie wished she'd remained in ignorance. The movie had given her goosebumps, and a bad feeling about life and governments and the future. She really hoped that she wouldn't dream tonight. Not anyone else's dreams from from dark and tormented minds or even dreams from the minds of hormonal seventeen year old boys. After seeing a movie like that, she didn't even want to have any of her own dreams.  
  
It was with a feeling of general dread and nervousness that she finally went to bed, taking a precautionary sleeping pill in hopes that it would help prevent dreams, any dreams.  
  
The sky was a dull gray, with cold rain pouring down, turning everything into mud. Whatever grass may have once been here was gone now, worn away by hundreds, thousands of feet, shuffling through the pathways between the metal fencing. The metal was gray, the sky was darker gray, the ground was muddy water over thick churned cold mud, and he, like everyone else had only worn clothing in grays and browns. His hands stung from the cold, and he couldn't feel his feet anymore.   
  
He was afraid. Why had they been brought to this place, here so very far from their home? Why were there only the long low buildings, looking almost like warehouses, and the large building, like some sort of factory, with two large smokestacks raising into the sky, releasing twin smudges of thick smoke that somehow looked greasy. There were soldiers all around, in their frightening uniforms with long rifles; the soldiers of the Third Reich.  
  
Everyone looked so tired, so hopeless. He felt so small and insignificant, no more than a small and dirty boy in a crowd of tired dirty people, soaked by the relentless cold rain. He was tired and cold down to his bones, and frightened. He gripped his mother's hand, staying close by her side. Surely, she could find a way to make things better, maybe even find some way that all of this would make some measure of sense.  
  
oh God... whose dream is this? I don't want to see any more!  
  
One of the soldiers gestured at his mother, and two of them came forward, seizing her roughly by her arms, the one on the right pushing him away forcefully, making him fall back into a puddle. By the time he had regained his feet, filled with a nameless sense of dread, they were dragging her away towards the building with the tall smokestacks. He could see her, trying to reach out to him, her face filled with fear as she screamed his name.  
  
"Eric! no... no... Erik!"  
  
He reached towards her, part of him knowing that she was to far away, part of him only certain that something bad would happen to her if they took her, and the small voice that knew this for a memory screaming obscenities towards the guards, knowing that this was the last time he would see his mother. Knowing exactly what had happened, how the people deemed to weak or useless to work had been thrown into the fires, burned into the greasy smoke that had poured into the sky. In defiance with all normal laws of behavior, the metal gate began to stretch towards him, curling back on itself as if peeling away... Pain blossomed from the guard's rifle connecting to his skull, and he collapsed once more to the cold muddy ground.  
  
It had been this place that had taught him to hate, and to understand suffering and deprivation. This place that had swallowed a frightened boy, uncertain of what was happening, and spat out a young man, determined to never let something like this happen again, that there would never again be camps like this, where people were sent to die for the way they had been born. He was willing to do anything to prevent such an occurrence.  
  
But this was not reality, this was a dream, a nightmarish twisting of events. The uniforms gradually changed, becoming more greenish, less specific. The weapons also changed, advancing to newer, more powerful weapons. And there were people falling, as if the passing of time had been hastened... and still he remained the weak, powerless child that had been herded into the camp.  
  
The other prisoners were also changing. While they were still dressed in drab colors, the fabrics thin and of little protection against the cold, the yellow stars had blurred, altering themselves to an X contained in a circle, the symbol of mutation. Their features had changed as well, some now had scales, or water soaked fur, or bedraggled feathers dropping in the constant rain. Many heads still had the shaved stubble that had been in the real camp, but others now had long, matted manes in an astonishing assortment of colors. Now, the prisoners were all mutants, or accused mutants, the new untouchables in this darkest age that had come, even if only in the terrors of the night. They were all mutants here, their special gifts somehow stripped from him, their captors confident that no matter what atrocities were committed, no matter how degrading or depraved their treatment of the prisoners, nobody would care, nobody would stop them. After all, they were only mutants, not real people.  
  
But it isn't like that! That hasn't... couldn't happen, could it? Dear God, this can't have been real!  
  
Marie had awakened, tears streaming down her face, her gut frozen in fear and horror from the dream. It had been so intense, so horribly vivid... She shivered, feeling chilled, although she was uncertain if it was from the memory of the cold rain or from the images of the nightmare instead. That had been terrible...  
  
She just curled into a small huddled ball on the bed, silent tears streaming down her face for a long time. She wept for the pain and fear of a small boy, his mother torn from him, and for the suffering of his people, and for fear that the rest of his nightmare might come to pass.  
  
It almost made her feel sorry for Magneto.  
  
end Magneto. 


End file.
